


mile high club

by poetictragedy



Category: Big Time Rush RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Sex, dustin being badass and pinning logan to the wall and the door
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dustin and Logan decide to make the most of a long flight and spend a little time in the bathroom with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mile high club

Flying has always made Dustin uneasy; no matter how many flights and airplanes he’s been on, he always panics and tries to remain calm in front of the other passengers, not wanting to scare them and make his own panic worse. Once they’re in the air, however, Dustin is perfectly fine and he distracts himself with a notebook, writing down lyric after lyric, humming quietly to himself.

This particular flight is different: Dustin and Logan are sitting next to the exit and he’s been giving instructions on what to do, should the plan crash. That doesn’t help ease his panic and they take off, his heart hammering rapidly in his chest, eyes screwed shut so tightly they he’s starting to make his head hurt.

A hand creeps along his thigh and he blinks his eyes open, settling them on Logan’s hand, which is just laying against his jeans. His fingers are slack, pale skin contrasting against the dark fabric underneath and Dustin takes a deep, calming breath, focusing on something other than the way the plane shakes momentarily; he focuses on Logan’s hand and swallows hard, looking up at his friend-slash-band mate with a soft smile.

And Logan’s not even looking back; he’s staring out the window, his thumb brushing against the inside of Dustin’s thigh, humming contentedly to himself. The whole thing calms Dustin down a little and he settles back against his seat, moving a hand down and accidentally brushing his palm against the back of Logan’s fingers.

“Sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat when the words come out broken.

Logan turns and blinks at him, smiling wide enough to show his dimples. “For?”

Swallowing thickly, Dusting nods pointedly down at their hands, running his fingertips along the length of Logan’s fingers, before dragging them back up slowly, breathing in through his nose. His friend shrugs and laughs, giving Dustin’s thigh a squeeze before turning back to the window just in time to miss the brilliant crimson fleet across Dustin’s cheeks.

Dustin doesn’t know how long they’ve been in the air before the seat belt sign goes off, dinging quietly. When it’s no longer flashing, he finally moves his hand away from Logan’s and unhooks his seat belt, biting his lip as he tips his head back, closing his eyes again, feeling much more relaxed than before.

The hand on his thigh creeps up and Dustin’s eyes snap open when he feels it press against the front of his jeans. He swallows hard and looks down quickly before flicking his gaze to Logan, who’s still staring out the goddamn window like it’s more interesting than what’s going on between his hand and Dustin’s crotch.

“What’re you doing?” Dustin asks, his voice a quiet whisper.

“Huh?” Blinking, Logan turns and smirks, looking down at his hand. “Thought this would calm you down a little more,” he explains, throwing the words around nonchalantly, like groping one of your best friends on an airplane is perfectly normal.

Dustin nods and purses his lips for a moment, rubbing them together. “It’s calming me down,” he says, chuckling quietly, “but also kind of exciting me.”

“I can feel that,” Logan hums, pushing his hand against Dustin’s crotch again, but this time with a little more pressure. 

“Shouldn’t we..” Dustin starts, his entire train of thought collapsing after that.

“What?” Logan hedges, lifting a brow.

Huffing, Dustin shakes his head and closes his eyes slowly. “Someone will see us,” he breathes after a moment, letting his eyes flutter open, settling on Logan’s face.

There’s a moment of silence between Dustin’s words and Logan’s response; the hand on his lap stills and Dustin’s halfway thankful for that, but he also wants more. He wants nothing more than to feel Logan’s hand wrapped around his length, instead of being blocked by two layers of clothing.

“Then let’s go somewhere no one will see us,” Logan suggests, grinning and flashing his dimples again and Dustin knows that he’s a goner when he sees them. He grunts quietly and nods, biting his lower lip as he leans over into the aisle, looking down it to see where the stewardesses are; they’re all congregated at the front of the plane and Dustin snorts, pulling back.

“Bathroom?” He suggests, subtly pushing his hips against Logan’s hand, desperate for any sort of friction.

Logan hums and nods, moving his hand away to undo his seat belt. “Come on,” he says, standing up and bending down a little to avoid hitting his head on the underside of the overhead compartment. He moves in front of Dustin and steps into the aisle, moving down toward the bathroom casually.

Dustin gives himself a moment and then stands up, stepping into the aisle, throwing a glance down toward where the stewardesses are standing, their attention on one another instead of what he’s doing. With his heart beating wildly in his chest, Dustin follows Logan to the bathroom and pushes him inside, shutting the door just seconds before shoving the shorter boy against it.

He wastes no time in claiming Logan’s lips in a biting kiss, his hands coasting down either side of the other boy’s body, gripping his hips tightly. Dustin pulls them against his own and groans against Logan’s mouth, biting and sucking on his lips before slipping a hand between them, undoing Logan’s jeans quickly, panting against his mouth as he pulls away.

“How long?” Dustin asks, making quick work of the button and zipper.

Logan groans and closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the door. “How long  _what_?”

“How long,” Dustin starts again, as he slips a hand into Logan’s boxers, “have you wanted to do this?” 

“A while,” Logan admits, huffing as he rolls his hips against Dustin’s hand, lifting one of his own before tangling his fingers in Dustin’s hair. “Now, are we going to talk, or are you going to let me finish what I started?”

Licking his lips, Dustin nods and takes a step back, curling his hands around the waistband of Logan’s jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers. They pool around his ankles and Dustin moves a hand up the outside of Logan’s thigh, inching it closer to his cock, listening to the shorter boy gasp his name.

They don’t talk much after that; Logan gets Dustin’s jeans undone quickly and pushes them down around his knees, immediately wrapping a hand around his cock, giving it a few quick strokes. He listens to Dustin moan and smirks, dropping his head forward, looking up at his friend as he strokes his cock, thumbing across the underside of the head slowly, just enough to tease Dustin and make him buck his hips forward.

Dustin pants and leans down, kissing Logan roughly, slamming him back against the wall, wrapping a hand around his cock. The other hand goes underneath Logan’s shirt and he plays with one of his nipples, twisting and pinching it between his fingers, swallowing every moan and gasp Logan makes in response.

They fill the tiny bathroom with muffled noises and harsh breathing, the cramped space feeling hotter than before; Dustin can feel sweat pouring down the back of his head, trickling down the nape of his neck. He growls and kisses Logan harder, quickening the pace of his hand, even giving his friend’s cock a lightly squeeze every now and then, just to make him yelp.

Logan’s knees are shaking and he allows Dustin to pin him against the door, using his body to keep Logan upright as they stroke each other. Their kiss is rough and full of teeth and tongue and Logan’s small, desperate whimpers as his orgasm approaches, his body shuddering when Dustin drags his nails down the middle of his stomach.

It’s like heaven, being locked in an airplane bathroom with his crush’s hand on his cock and Logan can’t believe it’s actually happening; a few times, he wonders if he’s dreaming and, when he feels Dustin’s other hand on his balls, he knows that it’s not a dream. If it is, it’s one seriously realistic, 3D-dream bullshit that he’s never experienced before and that he never wants to end.

But, the end is coming closer with every stroke of Dustin’s hand; he twists his wrist expertly like he’s done this before and Logan thinks, dumbly, that he has. Of course he has — Dustin’s got his own dick and he knows what gets him off, which is pretty much the same thing that gets Logan off; along with every other guy out there with a brain and a sex drive.

Logan pushes his hand against Dustin’s shirt, not sure if he wants to shove the other boy away or pull him closer; he opts for the latter and curls his fist in Dustin’s shirt, pulling him closer. He licks his way into Dustin’s mouth and explores slowly, pressing their tongues together as he starts stroking his friend’s cock a little harder, each moan Dustin makes vibrating against his lips.

And Logan is so close. He’s so fucking close to coming that his head is spinning and he feels dizzy, his knees buckling underneath him. A hand wraps around his hip and Logan doesn’t fall to the floor like he was afraid of doing, and he moans his thanks against Dustin’s mouth, moving his free hand to the side of Dustin’s neck, feeling how slick and sweaty his skin is.

A handful of thrusts later, and Logan is coming in Dustin’s hand, his hips twitching against his friend’s, groans and grunts falling against his lips. He draws in deep breaths through his nose before pulling away, whimpering lightly when he feels Dustin’s hand slow down; Logan hadn’t even really been aware that Dustin kept stroking him through his orgasm, and he smiles lazily.

Licking his lips and drawing in another deep breath, Logan continues to stroke Dustin’s cock, scratching his nails down the side of the taller boy’s neck until he’s biting down on his lip, moaning around it. He jerks his hand up and down faster, thumbing across the head as Dustin’s hips piston against his hand, his breathing becoming shallow as he gets closer to coming.

When Dustin does come, he barely groans Logan’s name before burying his face in the shorter boy’s shoulder, moaning and whimpering against his shirt. He stills his hips down and nuzzles his face against Logan’s neck, their sweat mixing as he does so, but neither of them make a comment about it.

They give themselves a moment to come down from their post-orgasm high and Dustin is the first to move; he drops his hands away from Logan and steps back as much as he can, huffing. He looks at Logan and swallows hard, giving his friend a grin before bending down to grab his jeans, yanking them up as much as he can.

“Should clean up,” Logan points out, running a hand down his sweat-slick face.

“Yeah.” Dustin huffs again and turns to the small sink, twisting the faucet on before grabbing a handful of paper towels. He wets them and turns the sink off, turning back to Logan with a small smile. “Here,” he says, handing the wad of towels to his friend, watching as he cleans himself up before handing it back.

Dustin cleans himself up and tosses the wet towels into the waste bin before grabbing a handful of dry ones, splitting them up between himself and Logan, each of them drying themselves off. Once they’re dry, Dustin tosses the other paper towels away and pulls his jeans up, redoing them as Logan does the same with his own.

“You should go out first,” Dustin says, nodding pointedly at the door.

Logan turns to look at it and nods, laughing. “Alright,” he says, turning to face the door before opening it, staggering out. He waves a hand dismissively and straightens up, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt before walking back down the aisle, back to his seat.

After a few moments, Dusting leaves the bathroom and walks back to his seat; he swears that people are staring at him and he swallows thickly, dropping down into the seat next to Logan. Neither of them speak and Logan slips his hand into Dustin’s, smiling fondly to himself as he grabs his iPod with his free hand, flipping through his music slowly.


End file.
